Page 36 of His Abandoned Duchess

But the sound of Amelia’s hearty snoring cut through his thoughts, and Richard rolled his eyes before landing on a tiny smile. He walked over to her, scooping Amelia up into his arms as if on their wedding night. He brought her to the other end of the hall where her room lay and managed to get the door open.

Bringing her inside, he deposited Amelia on her bed and sat down at her side as she fell deeper into her drunken slumber.

“You really must improve your choice of sleeping places, dear.”

She hummed gently, nuzzling into the bed as more and more consciousness was driven away. Shaking his head, Richard reached out, tucking a lock of brown curls behind her ear. Tension fled from Amelia’s shoulders at his touch, and he could not keep his fingers from gently sweeping over her cheek.

“Dream well, Amelia. Perhaps you’ll have a clearer story to tell in the morning.”

It was another long moment before Richard could pull himself up and move toward the door. Even still, as he reached it, Richard looked back over his shoulder at the sleeping form of his wife. She looked so small against the large bed and canopy, curled up into herself on her side. Amelia still wore her slippers, and before leaving at last, Richard freed her feet of them.

“Good night, Amelia.”

With that, he exited the chamber, closing the door behind him. Richard returned to his bedroom for the evening. The conflict that burned in his blood that had kept him awake these past nights was renewed, the glowing embers stoked into flames.

For the majority of his life, Richard had been a man of logic, ruled by the direction of his brain and upbringing. As he readied himself for bed and lay down, it was a heavy heart that fought against his higher reasoning—a wholly unfamiliar experience that Richard didnotenjoy.

Chapter Sixteen

“Iwill never allow Selina to mix her concoctions ever again,” Amelia groaned to herself, leaning away from the chamber pot, which now contained the contents of her stomach.

As soon as she’d stirred awake, Amelia felt the roiling of her guts, and she was forced to dash to the thing to empty her stomach. Her head throbbed, the likes of which she’d never known, and she could scarcely remember what had happened during the final hours of her evening with her friends.

Jane and another servant brought it a fresh pot of tea, but she nearly retched once more when they presented her with toast and jam.

“No, not yet. I will try for a meal later on. Thank you, Jane.”

“Of course, Your Grace. I will deliver word that you are under the weather today to all that call on you.”

Amelia nodded but quickly stopped the gesture as it made the terrible pound in her temples start up all the harder.

“Yes, perfect, Jane. I need to rest.”

Soon enough, she was left alone in her room as she continued to work toward recovery. Amelia had been overcome with the drink a small handful of times, the likes of which she could count on one hand even over five years. This felt tremendously worse than those previous situations.

Shakily standing from her position on the floor, Amelia dragged herself to the bed. At first, she tried pulling the thick covers across her trembling legs, but the heat was too much, causing her stomach to revolt once more, and Amelia flung them off again. She lie there in just her chemise, tempted to remove it too and sleep away the day in bed like a naked infant. But the act of removing the garment seemed too great a task.

Knock, knock, knock.

Amelia had requested a cool cloth, as for when affected by a fever, and so she called out to Jane to bring it in.

“Apologies, Amelia,” Richard spoke too loudly, “it is not Jane. Though I did retrieve your cloth.”

Jerking with surprise—which was an immediate regret—Amelia forced herself to sit up against the pillows behind her, eyeing Richard with her brows at her hairline.

“Richard,” she struggled to swallow, attempting to wet her overly dry mouth, “what are you…Thank you.”

She reached out, taking the offered cloth and pressing it to her forehead. The room hung in silence for a moment before Richard walked to the foot of her bed and sat down.

“Are you quite well?”

Offering a half-hearted smile, Amelia bobbed her head in a minute nod. “I shall be fine. I…I apologize for last evening. I surely must have been possessed to do such things.”

He chuckled lightly, but the wrinkles between Richard’s brows remained, and after busying himself with staring at the embroidery on her duvet cover, her husband’s eyes found hers, full of concern.

“Shall I call for a physician?”

Amelia’s mouth fell open slightly, and she couldn’t stop the heat from her cheeks. She grinned slightly, remorse still clinging to her, and she shook her head enough to get her point across without forcing herself to retch again.

---